


Sunflowers and Love Letters

by CaramelDarling



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Flower Shop & Tattoo Parlor, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-02
Updated: 2020-08-02
Packaged: 2021-03-05 23:27:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,433
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25663612
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CaramelDarling/pseuds/CaramelDarling
Summary: Keith begins to find flowers and love letters left at the front door of the tattoo shop he works in. He knows who they're from and who they're for and still, he can't stop himself from keeping them.
Relationships: Keith/Lance (Voltron)
Comments: 10
Kudos: 155
Collections: Writer's Month 2020





	Sunflowers and Love Letters

It’s the third day Keith finds a flower resting against the shop door, note tied neatly around its stem. The first time it happened, early Monday morning, he had almost stepped on it—a white-petaled daisy. The note that day had simply said, _Good morning!_ with a cheery smiley face doodled into the corner.

Today’s flower is a white gardenia. He picks it up discreetly, glancing across the street at the flower shop. Through the window, he can see Lance’s dark hair—his hands as he moves across the aisles fixing bouquets.

Keith unlocks the front door of the tattoo shop, turns the lights on, and sets his coat on the back of the chair behind the counter. He places the flower next to the computer, goes about starting the day—getting the money ready, making sure things are clean. His eyes keep floating back to the counter, back to the shock of white sitting out of place in a room of red walls and black accents.

The day before had been a pink rose and the note a line of poetry stolen from Pablo Neruda. Keith had looked it up. _I Like for You to be Still_.

He knows why this is happening. He was there with Allura when they crossed the road to buy some flowers she wanted to use as a reference for a client. They both stood in the doorway for a moment, taking in the burst of greenery, the floral scent—the brilliance of all the colors.

Lance poked his head past a bush the name of which Keith could not say, started to speak, and stopped short on seeing them standing there. He scrambled, dropping the watering can in his arms, and rushing to pick it up.

There was recognition in his eyes when he came around, flustered. Keith recognized him as well—from opposite ends of classrooms when they both went to school together. But it was clearly Allura he was most surprised to see. The back of his neck burned painfully red as he spoke to her, pointing wildly from flower to flower.

It was uncomfortable, to say the least, but worse still was the checkout process when Lance mentioned he remembered him from school.

“How long have you worked here?” Keith asked out of obligation. He figured he would say he just got started but instead Lance rolled his eyes, smiling defeatedly.

“I’ve been here for years. It’s my family’s shop. You never noticed?”

The implication that Lance not only remembered him despite never really speaking before but also that he had known they worked across each other for a long time made the skin on Keith’s face prickle with warmth. Keith has never been much of a people person and hardly pays attention to who and who is not around him but the conversation stuck with him.

Lance had watched them go, his eyes stuck to the back of Allura’s head. She never mentioned him afterwards, probably too used to that sort of attention, and she still has no idea he’s been trying to woo her with flowers and love notes.

Keith sits in front of the counter, a few minutes before ten when he’ll have to turn the _Open_ sign on. He fiddles with the note, untying it from the flower and then re-tying it and untying it again. He flips it open.

_If the poetry was too much, I’m sorry. Here’s a drawing to make up for it._

Below the words, he’s drawn a stick figure sitting behind a counter staring at a clock. Keith stands up and leans forward to catch a glance of Lance in the shop but he can’t make him out. He imagines he’s doing the same thing this stick figure is—he can almost see it clearly in his head.

Keith tucks the note into his jacket pocket, goes to the breakroom where he’s hidden the other flowers, and places the gardenia in the vase he’s set up in the corner of the room. There they sit—mismatched—a daisy, a rose, and a gardenia.

Keith finds himself waking up earlier than usual each morning. All through Friday, he finds flowers and notes waiting in front of the door. Allura doesn’t get in until eleven and Keith is under the impression she has no idea he’s collecting gifts meant for her until he walks into the breakroom midday and finds her changing the water in the vase.

“Where are these flowers coming from?” she asks. She smiles like she knows but doesn’t finish her own question.

Keith shrugs. “I keep finding them, I guess.”

“They’re very pretty.” Her eyes sparkle and for the first time, Keith wonders if she would return Lance’s feelings if she knew about them. He has never seen Allura flirt back with anyone who tries but it could be because they’re at work. 

Keith used to find Lance obnoxious—used to listen to his loud laughter and the way his voice pitched high when he spoke and he would roll his eyes and sigh into his coat. Lance was the type of person who was always surrounded by others and it seemed exhausting just watching.

But Keith can’t deny Lance is handsome—brown skin, dark eyelashes against clear blue eyes, tall… Plus the notes and the poetry and the flowers.

Today’s note was more poetry, more sweet words. If Allura read them, she might feel her heart tighten in her chest. She might start to pace around the room as she scans the words, her face warm, her hands trembling. Maybe.

“What is it?” Allura asks as Keith watches her place the vase back in the spot he put it.

He shrugs—thinks about going through his pockets and spilling the notes into her hands like a confession. _Yours. They’re all yours._

He does not do that. In truth, he doesn’t seriously consider it at all.

Saturday is his first day off since Lance has started sending the flowers. Keith finds himself showing up in front of the shop anyway but there is no flower at the door.

Through the window, he sees a girl with short hair and glasses helping a customer. Maybe Lance doesn’t work today. Keith crosses the street and finds himself pretending to admire the flowers set up outside the shop.

The door opens and the customer exits the shop holding a bouquet of roses. Behind her is the girl with glasses.

“Can I help you?” she asks.

Keith shakes his head. “Well, uh. No. Um.” He rubs the back of his neck. “Lance doesn’t work today?”

The girl blinks. “Oh. _Oh_. Hold on.” She disappears back inside the shop. A moment later, she’s pulling Lance out by the arm.

“What! What!” Lance says.

Keith holds his breath, not expecting this. Why did he come over here in the first place? He should be home in bed right now.

Lance looks at him, surprise clear on his face. He clears his throat. “Uh, hi.”

“Take the day off,” the girl tells Lance. “Hang out with your friend.” She closes the door behind her.

Lance sticks his hands in the pockets of his jeans. “What are you doing here? Do you work today?”

“Uh, no. Sorry. I just—I just wanted to buy some flowers.” Keith swallows. “But, uh, I’m thinking about it now and it’s probably too early. I’ll buy them later… I think.”

Lance smiles a tiny bit. He nods, thankfully not questioning Keith further. “Then, since I’ve got the day off now or whatever, do you wanna come with me to get something to eat?”

Keith’s mind blanks for a moment, an excuse to say no fluttering away. Shrugging one shoulder, he says, “All right.”

“Great! It’s just down the street this way.”

They walk together in silence for a few minutes. Keith does his absolute best not to make eye contact with Lance but it seems Lance is doing the opposite—stealing quick glances in his direction, the need to talk clear on his face.

“What kind of flowers do you like?” Lance asks.

“Huh?”

“Well, for later. For the ones you’re buying.”

“I don’t know.” Keith pauses. “Maybe sunflowers. I’ve always liked those.”

“Oh, yeah? Great taste!” Lance says, beaming.

They reach a breakfast place moments later and Lance walks to the door, holding it open with a flourish for Keith to pass through first. It makes Keith want to laugh, an urge he stifles quickly.

As time goes on, though—as they sit down and start to talk and Lance makes jokes about where they’re sitting, about how they’ve found themselves in this situation—Keith finds himself laughing anyway.

It’s not as weird as he was afraid it would be. Lance doesn’t talk about leaving flowers in front of the tattoo shop. He doesn’t mention Allura or ask if she’s mentioned him.

“Do you remember that math class we had where you almost fist fought our teacher?” Lance says, his food half-eaten in front of him. “What was his name? He was a real asshole.”

Keith scoffs. “I didn’t almost fist fight him,” he says.

“Uh, yeah. You got out of your chair like you were gonna show him what’s what. I remember turning to my friend and saying, _he’s gonna be expelled_.”

Keith finds himself laughing again. He remembers the day well and he remembers the talking-to he got from Shiro later. In truth, he had forgotten Lance was in the class with him, watching the whole thing.

That night, Keith lays in his bed wide awake, remembering the way Lance’s shoulder shook when he laughed, the way his mouth curved into a smile. He imagines poetry coming from between those lips. He wonders what Allura might say if she heard him. He wonders, also, what it might be like if Lance directed the poetry to him. What it might be like if the notes he steals were actually his to keep.

He can’t stop thinking. He plans to make it to work early in case there’s a flower tomorrow, even though he’s closing up this week, but he wakes up late.

When he gets there, he finds the door is already open, Allura setting up inside in his absence. No flower at the door.

“Morning,” Allura says when she sees him. “I thought you didn’t work until later today.”

“Oops,” Keith mutters. “Forgot.”

Then, he sees the flower—a red tulip—sitting on the counter, the note unfolded beside it.

“Oh, that. It was left at our door. Very sweet, isn’t he?” She glances out the window.

Keith doesn’t look. “I should go.”

Allura waves goodbye to him as he goes, leaving behind the flower, not knowing what love letter Lance has sent today.

Impulsively, when he closes up shop that day, he leaves a note attached to the door that says, _No more flowers please!_ He’s afraid to think about what might happen if Allura learns where the flowers are coming from and why. He worries about the look in her eyes when she said Lance is “very sweet.”

He considers more seriously telling her himself or maybe even telling Lance he’s been keeping all the gifts he’s sent.

When he finds no flower the next day, he is both relieved and disappointed. When there is no flower the next day, he starts to become regretful and impatient.

A client complains about his bad attitude online and Allura tells him it's all right and gives him a pat on the shoulder. It makes the anger coil tighter in his stomach and he begins to avoid her too.

Across the street, the flower shop moves like normal—no indication Lance is particularly heartbroken over the note Keith left. That night, Keith re-reads the notes he’s stolen and knows that Lance must be heartbroken. Guilt clings to him with renewed force.

When Keith shows up in front of the flower shop as Lance is barely getting ready for the day, Keith’s hands shake. Lance steps outside to meet him—invites Keith in after a long pause of silence.

“I just came to return these,” Keith says and pulls the notes out of his pockets. He deposits them into Lance’s arms. “Allura never read them. I kept them all. She has no idea how you feel about her. I sent the note the other day too.”

Lance stares at him, stunned.

“I’m sorry,” Keith adds and turns around. He’s crossing the street before Lance even starts to react.

The rest of the day is so bad, his boss tells him he can go home early. He avoids the concerned eye contact Allura sends his way as he exits the shop, the guilt still fresh beneath his skin.

When he steps outside, Lance stands there waiting for him. Is this where he gets a punch to the nose?

“In school, everyone said you were sooo smart,” Lance starts. “They always said, _wow, look at Keith. Look at how brilliant he is_. And I would turn to Hunk and say, I don’t think this dude has one clue what’s going on around him.”

“Just say what you want to say,” Keith snaps.

Lance holds something behind his back. “Hey, you hurt my feelings, you know? The least you can do is let me talk.”

“Ok, so what? Maybe you should be talking to Allura. I don’t want to hear about how I messed up. I know. Do you want me to go get her for you so you can confess your love or something?” He crosses his arms, a defense mechanism that’s gotten him into a few too many fights.

Lance groans. “This is exactly what I’m talking about. Not a clue what’s going on.” He pulls a sunflower from behind his back.

Keith’s heart catches in his throat.

“I can’t believe that all these years and you’re still as slow on the uptake as you were back then,” Lance continues. “I mean, what more do I have to do? What—”

Keith grabs the flower out of Lance’s hand, growls, “You talk just as much as I remember.”

Lance scoffs, an argument at the tip of his tongue that never makes it out because Keith leans forward and catches it between his teeth. He feels Lance’s gasp against his lips, feels Lance lean in and return the kiss, soft and intense.

When they pull away, Lance smiles at him, dazed, and says, “I knew you would get it.”

“I want my notes back,” Keith says.

“Don’t worry. I’ve got a whole book waiting for you.”


End file.
